John Watson's Blog
by peachringsandbananas
Summary: (I saw a post on tumblr about someone wanting a story in which the character falls in love with the reader. So here you have it.) John Watson was perfectly content entertaining the few viewers of his blog with stories of a retired soldier, but to what lengths will he go to get his new visitor to smile?(This is the only story of mine that has no reviews. So. You should leave review)


It was always good fun, wandering through the empty hallways and passages, pinning up notes for all his wonderful readers to see, he never grew tired of it. Day in and day out, it was what he did, and he was good at it. He would write stories of a wonderful man, who once was a soldier. There was always something missing though. The man seemed… so lonely. So out of place. John never questioned it though. It was what seemed best for him.

The little girls would giggle at the brave, strong man, and the adults would smile at his dedication in thanks. There weren't many readers, but John didn't care. He still made at least a few people smile. Seeing as how there were so few of them, it was a huge surprise when John noticed a new reader. He was tall and handsome, dark curls messily placed a top his head, a scarf always wrapped around his long neck. But he never smiled. No matter what fantastic things John would write, the man never so much as flinched.

And so John decided to leave him a message in hopes he would learn the secrets of the mysterious man.

"Hello sir, I was wondering… Why don't you ever smile?"

Immediately a response came, a ding sounding as the message arrived.

"Why don't you?"

And that was just preposterous. John smiled every day. He was always smiling.

"No, I smile all the time!"

And just as quick as before, a response dinged in.

"No you don't. Not really."

John shook his head and left the poor man to himself. He was wrong. John was fine. John was happy. And John was not even the slightest bit lonely.

He made it a goal of his to make his mysterious visitor smile, instead of his usual stories he wrote of a detective, and his loyal friend. They saved people. Everyone loved them. More and more people wandered onto his blog in hopes of hearing of the adventures of the two, but the one person that really mattered seemed disappointed in the stories. His frowns grew deeper and his absences wider. So John messaged him once more.

"What's wrong?"

This time it took days for a response to come.

"Nothing."

And so John let him be.

John kept writing about the consulting detective, the story getting more and more developed as he and his friend started to fall in love. The tall detective with the dark curls and the telling smirk and the lack of smiles… He fell for the little blonde man with the fake limp and the false smiles, and he fell right back. Yet still his visitor did not smile at the happy tales of love. John was so caught up in the other man's smiles that he never noticed the lack of his own. But he kept writing.

The detective got married, their wedding filled with laughter and adventure. Still the man would not smile.

John messaged him again.

"Some days I wish I could be in my stories myself."

After a month a reply came.

"You can always make them your reality."

And so John did.

He showed up at the screen, tapping politely and waiting for his visitor to return. When the man came back, he was shocked. John didn't see why.

"Hello! I was wondering if you would like to go on an adventure."

The man, still wrapped up tight in his bed sheets, let out a chuckle. And John swears he saw the smallest hint of a smile cross his lips as he typed back, "I would love to."

The stories stopped, John was so happy with the not-so-mysterious visitor and the adventures they had. They smiled and laughed and solved mysteries for the wonderful people they met… John couldn't remember a time when he had been happier.

They went on like this for years, every day the same routine. John would wait and tap on the thick glass, grinning as soon as the man appeared. And he always did… Until one day.

John sat for hours, his smile growing weak and his tapping growing slow, but he knew his visitor would always come. He had to. So John kept waiting. Even when the screen went black and there was no hope left, John kept waiting. And waiting. And waiting. Ring in his pocket. Love growing dim. He kept waiting for a man that would never come.


End file.
